


If Our Love Is Tragedy

by idrilsdarkwritings (idrilhadhafang)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Evil, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Conflicted Kylo Ren, Dark, Dark Darkpilot, Dark Kylo Ren, Dark Poe Dameron, Dead Snoke (Star Wars), Explicit Sexual Content, First Order Poe Dameron, In a really fucked up way, M/M, Poe Dameron Is A Mess, Soft Kylo Ren, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Jakku Mission Gets A Hydrospanner Thrown In It, dark soulmates, possible power imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilsdarkwritings
Summary: Prior to the Jakku mission, Poe Dameron finds out about his soulmate in the worst way possible.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	If Our Love Is Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Dark Fic
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Title from “Clarity” by Zedd ft. Foxes.

Getting your soulmate’s name on your wrist should have been a happy moment. Poe knows that much. And yet, looking at the name tattooed into the skin of his wrist — KYLO REN — something in Poe can’t help but feel at least like he’s been stabbed in the chest. Of all the names, and just before he’s about to leave for the Jakku mission, at that. He hasn’t met Kylo Ren proper, but he’s heard the stories. About how he’s killed innocent people. About how he burns villages left and right. Just an attack rancor that the Supreme Leader has on a tight leash. And Poe’s somehow bound to him.   
  
“You could get rid of it,” Leia says. “But...”  
  
Poe doesn’t miss the look in Leia’s eyes in that moment. That sadness. He doesn’t know who would feel sadness for this beast, but he supposes the General does, in her way. Then again, the General is a kind woman. She’s nothing like how the First Order portrays her — and she deserves so much more, Poe can’t help but think. Losing her son like that. Losing her husband too.   
  
“Did he mean something to you, General?” Poe can’t help but feel like he’s prying, but he has to know.   
  
Leia sighs. “Long ago.”   
  
It’s not a good idea to bring up memories that ought to stay buried, Poe thinks. He’s not going to press the matter.   
  
***  
  
Snoke’s scornful of the idea of a soulmate. Of course he is, Kylo thinks. The Dark Side has likely ground such beliefs out of him. He doesn’t know if someone else made Snoke cruel — after all, he thinks, someone had to. Luke, maybe, when he exiled Snoke? — or anything along those lines. Kylo supposes he has every reason to be skeptical. His parents were soulmates, and that hardly worked out well for either of them. (And then there was his father’s previous soulmate, a girl named Qi’ra...)  
  
And yet, somehow, looking down at the name on his wrist, Kylo can’t help but feel a need to find whoever it is. This “Poe Dameron”. Of course, researching later, he has to be a Resistance pilot, his mother’s new favorite. And he can’t help but grit his teeth at that. Damn his mother. He wanted so badly to please her, for her to love him (same with his father) and as a reward, she abandoned him and did nothing when he heard the galaxy screaming in the dark.   
  
When he meets Poe Dameron on Jakku, orders from Snoke channeled into shepherding Tekka (Ben Solo would have called him a friend, or at least an acquaintance. Kylo Ren can’t afford to) onto the shuttle, he can’t help but take in Dameron thoroughly — and he envies him. He has everything that Ben Solo could never dream of having — beauty, stability, the admiration of others. Charisma. General Organa’s favor. There’s more on that list, but even looking at Poe, Kylo can’t help but just feel reluctant desire. Anger too — the pull to the Light should not be this enticing, this lovely.   
  
Even when he’s outright mocking him (“So who talks first? You talk first, I talk first?”), Kylo’s too taken in by his gentle, soft voice to really hate him.   
  
He wishes he could. Stars, damn the name on his wrist. It’s a good thing that Kylo is wearing the mask. Wearing the mask hides his vulnerability, and he’s grateful for that well enough.   
  
***  
  
“What do you want with Luke?” Poe says, even as he sits with Kylo on the Finalizer, away from Tekka (who looked at him like he was genuinely sorry for his predicament), away from the ginger-haired General who seems to be happily soulmates with the chrome-armored stormtrooper Captain. “Was burning down his Academy not good enough for you, or killing his students?”  
  
Silence. Then, “Did he tell you that? So like him to lie.”  
  
“What would he get out of lying?”  
  
“Everything," Kylo says.   
  
“And you wouldn’t?” Poe says. “You’re too willing to hide behind a mask.”  
  
Silence.   
  
Kylo removes his mask with a click-hiss, and Poe is keenly aware of how far reality is from his expectations. He doesn’t know what he expected, though Poe didn’t know what to expect. A monster? Someone horribly burnt, like Vader? Instead, Kylo looks...normal. Almost angelic in his beauty. Poe can’t keep his eyes off the moles that dot his skin like inverted stars, the way his curly black hair frames his face. And his eyes — they’re so soft, so expressive, so dark and all too real.  
  
He shouldn’t be drawing Poe in. Here he is nonetheless. In a way, Poe thinks, he doesn’t need the mask. Poe supposes that he could draw people in just with how angelic he looks, even as his face hides a monster.   
  
"Your eyes...” Even Ren’s voice sounds different without the mask. Musical and soft. “You expected a monster? Or I’m that displeasing to look at?”  
  
“No.” Poe wouldn’t call anyone ugly anyway, but Ren — he can imagine another reason he wears the mask. If anyone saw how beautiful he was, Ren would have to beat away admirers with his lightsaber. “I...heard stories about what you looked like under the mask. Can’t say any of them are true.”  
  
“Of course not,” Ren says. “I’ve had to rely on stories over the years. No one would have taken me seriously if they saw me underneath.” A beat. “But Skywalker’s a liar. I didn’t destroy the Temple. I was hardly powerful enough to, even at my peak. And I wouldn’t want to. Snoke did.”  
  
It sounds difficult to believe in that moment. And how does he even know he can trust Ren, what he’s saying?  
  
Ren continues. “Your idol Luke Skywalker tried to kill me in my sleep, all because of a feeling he had. And don’t look at me like that; it’s the truth. I was plagued by the screams of the galaxy, and he saw me as...defiled because of it, and needing to die.”  
  
Poe studies him. Looks for anything that might suggest that Ren’s lying. And yet he can feel something, something that’s not his own. The anger flaring up, and more than that, hurt. A feeling of being unwanted, more than anything else.   
  
"Why?” Poe says. “He was willing to save Vader...”  
  
“Because he loved Vader. Like he never could...the boy that was.”  
  
Poe can’t process this. This can’t be happening. This can’t have already happened.   
  
Ren continues. “I swore my loyalty and he tried to snuff me out for it.”  
  
Poe tries to concentrate on what Ren’s done, including interrogating an old man for the map to Luke...and yet he can’t help but picture a young boy cast aside. A young boy, named...whoever Ren was called before he fell. Poe doubts he was born Kylo, at least.   
  
“He should have helped you,” Poe says. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Kylo looks away, but not before Poe realizes why he really wears the mask — because symbols can’t show their pain. Because symbols aren’t vulnerable. Cover your face enough and no one sees how vulnerable, how alone, you really are.   
  
“Don’t pity me,” Kylo says, tightly. “I freed you, that’s all. Told you the truth behind the lies.”  
  
And yet everything Poe feels, that yawning, aching loneliness, that desire for someone to soothe it — that feeling, obviously Kylo’s, is enough to tell Poe it’s a front.   
  
***  
  
He should be grateful that he’s at peace for a change. But Kylo’s almost unsettled by it. Even now, he knows how Dameron is all but contaminating him with his Light. Dameron’s no Jedi, but Kylo has a feeling that if he was, he would walk that path too easily. Even sitting alone in his chambers before his grandfather’s mask, he can’t help but hate himself. For all the Light that’s threatening to overwhelm him, for all that could be. The Light is weakness, the Supreme Leader said, and the Supreme Leader is wise, so...  
  
“You would know what to do,” he says to the half-melted mask. “Help me.”  
  
No answer. If Kylo had less respect for his grandfather’s remains, he would have punted the helmet across the room.   
  
Of course, at the sound of something crashing, Kylo goes to find Poe, worried for a moment that he’s injured...and he’s not used to feeling concern about someone without being embarrassed about it.   
  
“I don’t know what happened,” Poe says. “I just got angry, out of nowhere...did you do this?”  
  
Kylo shakes his head. “I’m not that powerful,” he says.   
  
He sits down in that moment, feeling fingers hesitantly brush over his, and as much as he wants to jerk away, run away, from that peaceful feeling, he feels somehow like he doesn’t want to.  
  
***  
  
Poe wishes he knew what it was that’s keeping them all but glued together. He befriends one of the stormtroopers, who Poe starts affectionately calling “Finn", which Kylo begrudgingly indulges (through with a snippy remark that “usually, the stormtroopers’ names are more creative than that, or so I’ve been told”). He can also tell that Kylo’s also obviously confused as to what’s going on with him. With what’s happening to him.   
  
Poe knows the feeling all too well.   
  
“I don’t like it either,” Poe says. “Feeling like I’m at the whim of every feeling you have. Feeling like when you change, so do I.”  
  
“I suppose,” Kylo says. “That is something we agree on.”  
  
***  
  
Kylo’s falling in love with him, and Poe’s terrified of what it will inevitably mean. He knows that it brings out Kylo’s better side — for lack of a better word — but a gilded cage is still a cage. And the worst part is that Kylo is all but soothing his wounds whatever he does. His past as a spice runner. Leaving Zorii — who hadn’t been his soulmate, but a bizarre sort of friend to him — behind. The death of his mother. Among other things.  
  
"You could stay with me,” Kylo says, at one point. "I could heal your broken wings, so you could fly once more.”  
  
Poe wishes at times like these that Kylo didn’t say such gentle-sounding words. He would almost prefer it if Kylo was a monster without gentleness, who didn’t use to be a young boy cast aside.   
  
“I could disappear without a trace,” he says, softly, and he doesn’t feel as much satisfaction as he would have once.  
  
“You could.” Kylo says. “Why don’t you?”  
  
“I’m mad, I suppose.”  
  
Kylo strokes his cheek. Poe leans into the touch, hesitant and wanting all at once.   
  
***  
  
He loves him. And that hurts to realize, Poe knows, because he knows it’s here, in the prison where Kylo’s both captor and cellmate. He knows Kylo loves him too, that sort of blistering adoration that for Dark Siders, would only make them scarier. Especially when Snoke, fed up, orders him to kill his soulmate.   
  
“I’ve wanted an opportunity to kill that beast,” Kylo says, between fevered kisses. “Now’s the time. Poe...I want you to join me.”  
  
Poe pauses. Can he? Then again, when everything you based your redemption for being a spice runner on was a lie, when your soulmate’s about to die...is there anything left?  
  
“You then,” Poe says. “Not the First Order.”  
  
Kylo thanks him. Enthusiastically at that, by making love to Poe. By exclaiming in delight, with a sweetness that seems out of place on the _Finalizer,_ as he finds new parts of Poe he finds fascinating and endearing.   
  
“It’s not much...” Poe says.   
  
“It’s more than enough. You’re beautiful, and so very mine.” Kylo suckles on Poe’s neck, causing the pilot to moan in arousal. "I would have no other.”  
  
And Poe doesn’t have to sense Kylo’s emotions to know he’s telling the truth.   
  
***  
  
They stand over Snoke’s body, and the bodies of his Praetorian Guards. Poe has to give his soulmate credit; he didn’t expect to have Kylo utterly trick Snoke, to deceive the bastard long enough to take him out. And then killing the guards (with Poe’s help). What’s terrifying is how turned on Poe is right now — he doesn’t know if it’s what Kylo’s feeling or his own feelings, but he’s so _hard._ Hard to the point it hurts...  
  
Kylo looks almost feral, in the absence of Snoke. Like something’s broken free. He kisses Poe, hard, bruising, and his arms carry Poe effortlessly towards the throne where Snoke’s body lies, sliced in half.   
  
Poe kisses back, groaning in sheer arousal. He can just feel how much Kylo wants him, to share his victory with him, and he agrees. Even though Snoke’s bisected corpse and the corpses of the guards should kill the mood entirely, it doesn’t. Poe wonders, absently, if he’s as twisted as his soulmate, getting off on carnage.   
  
“I say we earned this,” Kylo says. “I dreamed of kriffing you on this throne. Having you scream my name as you climaxed. Now’s the hour.”  
  
“Please.” Poe murmurs, and Kylo instructs him, orders him, to sit on the throne, pull his pants away. Confused, Poe obliges, and is rewarded by the sight of Kylo on his knees before him, by the grazing of lips and teeth and tongue against his lower belly (the belly that makes Poe envy Kylo’s strong abdominal muscles normally that Kylo seems to love — and Poe can’t help but be turned on as well in the process), before Kylo speaks. “You’ve done so well. Standing by my side. Defending me. I ought to reward you. To just suck you off right there.”  
  
Poe agrees with that. Kylo takes his time — his woefully torturous time — using his mouth to pleasure Poe, his hands holding Poe’s legs apart even as he pleasures his soulmate. Poe has to grip the arm rests of the throne even as it goes on. Teasing Poe, and Poe’s praising him, murmuring nonsense that sounds like madness in its exultation.   
  
Poe comes explosively, and it’s still not enough. With extensive work (including body oil that Kylo has with him), Kylo kriffs him, and Poe’s touching himself even as Kylo does it. As he feels so full with Kylo inside him, as he doesn’t know where Kylo ends and he begins. Kylo kriffs him, until Poe comes a second time, and Kylo follows, growling softly.   
  
It occurs to Poe that they’ve claimed Snoke’s throne. That they’ve all but broken it in.   
  
“Someone has to rule,” Kylo says. “Bring order to the galaxy. And I want you to rule with me.”  
  
“Forever,” Poe says.   
  
And even falling has never felt more exhilarating.


End file.
